


Everything's Going to be Alright

by MoMoMomma



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Eden's Gate Cult, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Dating, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 01:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16295693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoMoMomma/pseuds/MoMoMomma
Summary: Rook never really went searching for his soulmate, knew so few who’d actually found them that it never really was a big deal to him. Clearly, Joseph doesn't feel the same.





	Everything's Going to be Alright

**Author's Note:**

  * For [9shadowcat9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/9shadowcat9/gifts).



> Today's small break in Kinktober is brought to you by a commission from 99shadowcat99! Thank you so much, I really hope you enjoy this!

“Your brother should be here any minute to pick you up.”

John Seed--taken in on DUI but barely over the limit, no previous arrests in Montana, still has his Georgia license--doesn’t bother responding to Rook. Just stares down at his wrist, almost absently tracing over the words there that Rook can’t quite make out. He sighs, steps away from the bars; almost wants to try again until Deputy Wilson shoves her head in the door.

“Joseph Seed’s out front. Wanna take this one?”

Rook waves her on, gives John one last look--which is met with a quick flash of blue eyes, a bit worried, still walled off from any actual interaction--before he turns and makes his way out of holding. They’d sent him down to talk to John, see if they could get anything out of him since he’s been eagerly using his right to remain silent since he arrived a few hours ago. Normally the Sheriff will wave off stuff like this; if the person seems honestly regretful and has a good reason as to why they climbed behind the wheel after drinking.

But John doesn’t seem willing to talk and Rook can’t help him. Maybe he’ll have better luck with his brother.

Who looks like he might collapse once Rook catches sight of him. Hands planted on the desk like he can’t stand without them, face pale against the dark brown of his hair, visibly distressed. Rook hears him chatting with Nancy before he gets close.

“And he is--the person on the phone didn’t say. They just that he was--ah--that he was arrested and I know this late at night he’d probably been drinking and I just--”

“Hey,” Rook’s close enough to speak now, reaches out a gentle hand to press fingers to Joseph’s forearm, watches panic wide eyes snap to his. “It’s alright, everything’s gonna be alright.”

Joseph face goes slack, pales further if that’s possible. He wavers in place, turns unsteady to Rook--who reaches out his free hand just in case he goes down. It’s not uncommon for people to freak out when family lands themselves in jail--something about the atmosphere--and it’s going on three in the morning. Rook would probably be freaked out himself if he got the call Joseph did.

“Oh my god,” Joseph breathes, something that makes Rook straighten, hands falling back to his sides in a second. 

Familiar words. Said every single day by numerous people. Too common to be important, too widely used to narrow it down.

Exactly what the therapist had quietly whispered to his mom years ago when she didn’t think Rook could hear, while he glared down at his wrist and wished for something more. 

“Mr. Seed? You should take a seat. We just need to finish up John’s paperwork and he’ll be out of here. He’s fine, everything’s alright.” Little placations because Joseph is still staring at him with something strangely vulnerable in his eyes.

Rook leads him over to the few chairs that litter the waiting area, one hand on his elbow, sliding into the seat next to him once Joseph all but collapses. He’s breathing heavy, panic making his chest rise and fall, and Rook pats an awkward hand against his shoulder. 

“Mr. Seed--”

“John has...had...well, perhaps still _has_ problems with temptations. Drugs and alcohol. I had thought perhaps those problems would alleviate when we moved here. Receiving the call was…”

“It can be terrifying to get a call from the police in the middle of the night.” Rook sympathizes, moving to small circles when it seems the touch is easing the panic shaking Joseph’s voice. “But he’s perfectly alright. Was barely over the limit.”

Something in his words makes Joseph flinch, hand absently ringed around one wrist, twisting like it’s an old habit. It makes Rook acutely aware of his own wrist, the black letters there flashing as he tries to comfort. He shakes it off, tries to focus when Joseph speaks next.

“He’ll be released soon?”

“Just a few more minutes.” Rook confirms after a nod from Nancy and the flash of papers in her hand. “Looks like we’re just about set. Just have to grab him from holding and you can take him home.”

“You are too kind.” Joseph turns his head and Rook almost recoils at the intensity in the eye contact when before Joseph had seemed unable to meet his gaze. “As I always imagined you were.”

“Wha--”

“Joseph!” John’s striding down the hall in front of Deputy Rakes, looking a bit like a chastised child. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think they’d call you, I assumed they’d try Jacob first and--”

“It’s alright.”

Joseph pushes easily to his feet, no longer shaky like he was mere moments ago, and Rook’s left staring open-mouthed as the brothers embrace. Joseph grips John’s biceps, tips their heads together, seems to be choosing his words carefully.

“It was...what was to be. Your choice led to my salvation. Please do not think I’m angry with you.”

“What?”

Oh good, Rook’s not the only one who doesn’t understand. John tips his head, eyes bouncing around the waiting room before they land on Rook with a light on inside that he doesn’t care for in the slightest. 

“You mean--”

“I do.” Joseph nods, lets his brother go to turn all that focused attention back on Rook. “Deputy, forgive my earlier behavior. I appreciate your comfort. I was a bit unnerved, understandably so, to deal with finding my intended and worrying about my brother.”

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Rook says automatically before blinking, mouth snapping shut and opening again, brain skipping over Joseph’s words like a warped record. “I’m sorry--what did you say?”

Joseph doesn’t answer, instead just extends his arm towards Rook, palm up and open. Rook’s eyes fall, pulled to the ink written on his wrist. It fills more space there than Rook’s does, more than just three words, and he finds his heart dropping, throat closing, when he reads.

Even upside down, he can read it. He _said_ those words, he could see them in near pitch black if need be. 

_Hey, it’s alright, everything’s gonna be alright._

Rook grabs for his own wrist, fingers a bit numb, eyes rising until he can meet Joseph’s. Can see the hope there, the unbridled joy. He gave up looking, never really thought about it until now, wasn’t bothered much by it to begin with because the odds were...so small. Infinitesimally small. 

Rook feels his knees going, sees Joseph jerk and rush forwards just as he starts to sink to the ground.

“Well. Fuck.”

.O.

Rook tries to adjust the next few days. Doesn’t really reach out, though Joseph had helpfully left him with phone number, cell number, home address _and_ told him he would be welcome through the gates of the commune at any time. It’s...odd. Rook never really went searching for his soulmate, knew so few who’d actually found them that it never really was a big deal to him. His parents weren’t each other’s soulmates, so it’s not like he grew up thinking he _had_ to be with his soulmate.

But clearly, Joseph doesn’t feel the same. 

It takes a few comments from Pratt and a few pointed looks from Hudson--and one particularly long stare from the Sheriff followed by a disappointed sort of sigh--before Rook calls. Calls mostly because the idea of going to see Joseph in person, see that hopeful sort of look--too many expectations, like Rook’s more than just a Deputy doing his best--makes him want to be a bit sick.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me.” Rook winces; resists the urge to hit himself in the head with one of the couches decorative throw pillows. “I mean, it’s Rook.”

“Rook!” His name is little more than a breath on Joseph’s lips and there’s a frantic sort of rush in the background, like Joseph’s scrambling for privacy. “How are you? How have you been?”

“I’ve been...good. Busy, with like...work and stuff.”

“Understandable.” Joseph’s going to let him lie and Rook _hates_ it. “You have a particularly demanding job. I’m so glad you finally found a quiet moment to call though.”

He sounds it. There’s the same effusive sort of joy in Joseph’s voice as there was in his face when he explained, as Rook lay on the floor of the jail waiting room, that he’d waited so long and hoped and Rook is everything he wanted and more and--

Jesus. What the hell has he gotten himself into?

“Yeah, look, I--” How is he even going to go about this? “I just wanted to...I know we’re soulmates. But that doesn’t mean, I mean--soulmate or not, that doesn’t necessarily change your sexuality. So don’t feel like just because we are that you have to...uh…”

“Your gender matters very little.” Joseph says softly, “I would love you no matter what. It is your soul that matches so well with mine, the body is of little importance in comparison.”

There’s a small pause, a hitch in Joseph’s breath.

“Unless, of course, you aren’t interested in men. In which case--”

“Oh! Uh, no, no, men are very interesting. To me, I mean.” Rook groans, scrubs a hand over his face as Joseph laughs quietly on the other side. “Sorry. I just...I’m gay, so you being a man isn’t an issue. But I never thought I’d find my soulmate.”

“Very few do. We have been blessed, indeed.”

“Right.” Rook drags the word out. “Except you seem...I dunno. You seem really happy? And I don’t want you to think I’m not because I’m...pleased? But I never expected it so I didn’t hope for it so--”

“Rook.” Joseph breaks his rambling with another soft laugh, his name curving around amusement and Joseph’s accent. “I do not expect everyone accepts their soulmate as openly as I do. As I have. If you would prefer to take things slowly rather than rush off to be married, I would certainly not oppose.”

“Yes. Slow. I like slow.”

“Then slow you shall have.” Joseph hums. “If you’re not opposed, I’ve got a near lifetime of ideas saved up, things I imagined doing while dating my soulmate. Would you be willing to be my Hallmark inspired guinea pig?”

He can do slow. He can do all the cheesy things Joseph’s probably thought about since he was a kid, tracing letters on his wrist and hoping against hope. It’s not that he’s not attracted, Joseph’s visually appealing--all strong lines of muscle under his clothes that Rook felt during his awkward attempts at comforting in the jail--and there’s something inside that sparks at the idea, probably what put the words on their wrists in the first place. 

“Yes,” Rook agrees finally, sagging back onto the couch. “Consider me ready to be courted.”

.O.

Joseph’s first date is, thankfully enough, just coffee. Rook meets him after work, still in uniform, and tries to not sweat through said uniform when Joseph greets him with a soft hand on his arm and the gentlest brush of a kiss against his cheek. They take their coffee outside, to the few small tables scattered around, a little more private than the general atmosphere inside even if it does leave them both a little cool in the autumn air. 

“Have you been in Hope County very long?” Joseph asks over the steaming rim of his cup. 

“Not super long. Only about six months or so. Long enough I’m settled, but not long enough that I’m not the department gopher anymore.”

“I see.”

Silence falls after that, both of them staring into their cups, moments ticking by in heartbeats that pound in Rook’s ears. He clears his throat, pulls Joseph’s gaze up, and scrambles at the expectation there. 

C’mon, Rook, think of something to say, you _idiot._

“So...why Montana over Georgia?” Rook asks, wincing at the curious tip of Joseph’s head. “Sorry, we pulled John’s license. Figured you guys lived in the same state for the most part.”

“We did.” Joseph is drawing little circles on the side of his cup and Rook can’t quite seem to totally stop glancing at the length of his fingers. “It seemed fitting. We could no longer stay--churches like ours, where we tend to preach a more secular lifestyle to those of us recovering from addictions or hiding from sins of the past, aren’t as welcome as I’d like. My brothers and I spread out a map, searched to where we felt we could be free.”

Joseph’s smile does something odd, shrinking slightly before it goes broad and pleased, glowing.

“I wonder now if God guided me here for more than one reason.”

Right. Soulmates. Rook scratches nervously at his wrist, over the letters, watches Joseph’s eyes dip for a moment before he seems to force his face back to neutral.

“Apologies. I know you don’t ascribe to the same ideals.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Rook hurries to assure. “I just...still adjusting.”

“Please take all the time you need.” Joseph reaches out, presses the gentlest of fingertips to his hand. “Simply finding each other is more than so many in this world get. You could take years upon years and I would be content simply knowing you.”

Which makes it _worse_ , really. Because it means Joseph’s in this no matter what--which means he won’t be content for a fuck every now and again to see if it’s better with soulmates, which was what Pratt had suggested he try out. Not that Rook had seriously considered the idea, except for maybe some late night thoughts about fucking Joseph because...attractive. But there’s a commitment here, regardless of anything else. Joseph’s going to be content with whatever Rook has to offer up and it’s not _fair_ they’ve been put in this situation.

“I’m gonna try my best,” Rook says gently, twists his hand to capture Joseph’s when he tries to pull back. “Hey. Listen, I might not...I’m not sold on the soulmate thing. But dating you doesn’t really seem like it’d be a hardship for me. So...maybe for now...we just try that?”

“Dating like any other person on the planet?” Joseph laughs softly, squeezes Rook’s fingers. “I think I could do that. I’ll keep my thoughts on our position as soulmates to myself...much as I can, anyhow.”

Rook offers him a grateful smile, squeezing one last time before he lets go. Drums his fingers on the table, sips from his cup, tries to look anywhere but where Joseph’s watching him with something achingly soft in his eyes.

“So...uh...what sort of movies do you like?”

.O.

The second date is a little less private. Joseph invites him to dinner, texts him midweek to schedule it for the next day Rook’s off. It lands them going out on a Friday night, going to three different restaurants before the continually growing waitlist has them sitting in Rook’s car, both equally frustrated. Rook _wants_ this to work, wants to enjoy a nice dinner with his sort-of-boyfriend/soulmate. Work had dragged on through the week, he’d been shouted at, punched more than once, and he just wants _something_ to be pleasant.

Seems like the world has other plans which is _bullshit._

“Perhaps another night?” Joseph suggests quietly from his side, making Rook white knuckle the steering wheel.

“No...you know what? No. What do you want to eat? I have an idea.”

Rook winds up plopping the bag of carry out onto Joseph’s lap, staying stubbornly silent as Joseph interrogates him the whole drive, shaking his head at each question with a soft smile. It doesn’t take long, even going up the winding roads--probably because half the damn county is off the road and at a restaurant table right now--before Rook’s slowing to a stop. He grabs the bag, rounds the car to offer up his hand as Joseph climbs out, and gently tugs him into the treeline. 

It’s stupidly romantic, the way Joseph clings to his hand, close to his back to avoid tripping on anything. It’s not quite late enough to be totally dark, but there are a few stars out, enough that Joseph makes a soft noise of surprise when they reach the clearing overlook.

“It’s not a restaurant or some private corner table,” Rook gestures with their linked hands and shrugs. “But I come up here sometimes to think, to be alone. Figured--if you don’t like it, we can go eat in the car.”

“It’s wonderful.” Joseph turns, presses a kiss to his cheek that has the flesh heating up. “Thank you for sharing this part of yourself with me.”

It’s a little awkward, both of them folding themselves onto the rock Rook usually sprawls on alone, but they make it work. Joseph slings a leg over his knee, elbows bumping as they dish out who ordered what, and Rook can’t stop smiling as he bites into his burger. 

“When did you discover this place?” Joseph asks after a few moments of quiet. 

“Not long after I moved here, actually. Wanted someplace I could go and just...get away, you know? Living in Fall’s End is convenient but it’s still a town. Busy and loud sometimes. I wanted to find something that let me have a little peace and quiet whenever I wanted it.” Rook shrugs; takes another bite, and holds up a hand to hide his mouth as he explains. “Never ran into anyone else up here, so I figure I chose well.”

“It’s beautiful.” Joseph agrees with a wistful sort of sigh. “Georgia was not nearly as open. More cities than farmland, particularly where we lived. This is the sort of view I always wanted as a child...I’m so glad you allowed me to have this.”

“I’ll bring you up here sometime, early in the morning. The sunrise from here is crazy gorgeous.”

“I’d like that,” Joseph says quietly, a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

Rook’s not sure what prompts it, later that evening once he’s in bed and thinking about it. Isn’t sure what inside him rears up with the idea he can’t shake. But he leans forward, presses his mouth to Joseph’s gentle grin. There’s a shocked sort of noise, a hitched inhale, and Joseph’s kissing him back in an instant. He tastes like french fries and his own sandwich and it’s so good and _normal_ Rook can’t help but laugh. 

“Am I so terrible at it?” Joseph asks, drawing back with a smirk and one arched brow as Rook shakes his head, tries to beat back the giddy laughter that’s bubbling up inside. 

Fuck. He feels like a teenager all over again, fumbling and happy with the smallest pieces. If this is how Joseph feels all the time...he sees why he latched on so quick to the idea of soulmates. 

“You’re amazing. _It_ was amazing. Sorry, I’m just--” Rook waves a hand like that explains anything. “It’s good. It’s _great_.”

“And I’m glad for it.” Joseph nudges him with one elbow, still smirking. “Now please keep your lips to yourself. My mouth needs to be occupied eating my food.”

“Well,” Rook drawls, inches ever closer, “now I _have_ to make it my life’s mission to give your mouth something else to do.”

The weak punch he receives to the arm is totally worth it for the booming laughter that escapes when Joseph flushes from beard to hairline. 

.O.

Rook’s not having a great day. He had to go out and deal with Drubman today--and not Hurk, who he can generally persuade to not do stupid shit with little more than a glare and a promise to buy the next round. He forgot his lunch on the kitchen counter and he’s staying over to help cover Bradford’s shift since she got smacked with the case of flu that’s been going around. His head hurts, he’s hungry, and if Hudson pings him with one more paper ball…

“Deputy Wylde?” Nancy pokes her head in just as he readies himself to nail Hudson in the back of the head with a ball of his own, paper crumpling in his fist under her unimpressed frown. “Father Seed is here to see you.”

What? Why?

“Uh...okay.” Rook pushes himself back from his desk, offers Hudson a sharp one-finger salute in response to her low whistle. “In the waiting room or--?”

She steps aside, murmurs something over her shoulder, and keeps the door wide for Joseph to slip past. Rook stands, watches him cross the room with something akin to sheepishness, offering up a bag once he’s close enough. He takes it with strangely trembling fingers, setting it down on the desk between them as Joseph gestures vaguely. 

“You seemed upset to cancel our date tonight. I thought, perhaps, this might be a nice gesture.” He glances around subtly, eyes darting at the way the attention of the room is decidedly on them, some of the Deputies openly staring while others make vague attempts to hide it. “Ah...apologies if you’d already brought something.”

“No, no, it’s...I forgot my lunch today.” Rook can’t quite seem to stop smiling, cheeks stretching and heating. “You were…this is perfect. Thank you so much.”

“Of course.”

Joseph shifts awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable being the center of attention when he’s not preaching. Rook hasn’t managed to find time to attend a sermon yet, but he’s certainly heard the rumors. How Joseph seems bigger, better when he’s spreading the word of God. How he captivates a room, has people agreeing to things they barely even thought about before. 

He can see it. Because Joseph isn’t even saying anything right now and Rook can’t quite stop staring.

“I should--” Joseph clears his throat, offers up a sheepish sort of smile. “I’ll let you get back to work. I simply wanted to give this to you.”

“Yeah, I--hey.” Rook reaches out, grabs gently for Joseph’s wrist and stops his attempts to escape the room. “C’mere.”

The desk is in the way, cutting into Rook’s thighs when he leans across it, one hand braced so he doesn’t fall flat on his face. Joseph meets him halfway, thankfully, hand twisted to hold his, the other curving around the outside of his bicep. It’s nothing like the movies, a little awkward with all the eyes on them, not the best position, but Joseph sighs into the kiss like it’s everything he wanted and more. Rook can’t help but echo the sound, pouting slightly when a throat clears and Joseph pulls back, clearly more concerned with appearances than Rook is in that moment.

“Havin’ fun, Deputy?” The Sheriff doesn’t actually seem bothered, eyes sparkling under the brim of his hat, hands on his hips as he surveys the scene.

Rook offers up a wild grin, squeezing Joseph’s hand momentarily. 

“Sorry, Sheriff. Just thanking my soulmate for taking care of me.”

Joseph makes a quiet noise, surprise and joy, and there’s an echo of it in Rook’s chest, like emotions stretching across the space that’s been steadily shrinking between them. He’s smiling so broadly when Rook glances his way that it looks like it _hurts_ , pride and happiness exuding from every inch. 

The Sheriff rolls his eyes, clearly seeing the way Rook can’t quite tear his gaze from Joseph or bring himself to let go of his hand just yet.

“Go eat it somewhere else. Don’t need work crashing to a stop because everyone wants to rubber-neck the happy couple.”

Rook scoops the bag up with his free hand, keeps hold of Joseph’s hand as he rounds the desk. Joseph laughs softly as he pulls him into his side, letting go only to slide his arm around his waist, cheeks just a touch too red.

“This wasn’t what I planned.” He murmurs softly as Rook guides them out of the bullpen.

“You got something else to do? Somewhere else to be?”

“No,” Joseph shakes his head, cautious and careful and _happy_. “I can think of nothing more important than where I am right now.”

.O.

Six months. It’s been six months, nearly to the day, when Rook felt the world shift under his feet in the waiting room of the jail, eyes on Joseph’s wrist and the words there. He took today off last month, asked for it with shaking hands and a voice that wasn’t quite steady, something understanding in the Sheriff’s eyes. He’s been nervous all morning, sweated through two shirts this morning while he was trying to get ready, so jumpy he was tempted to call a cab because driving under this sort of stress really shouldn’t be legal. 

A few people can tell, gentle hands on his forearms as he strides into the church, clapping palms onto his shoulders with kind smiles. He doesn’t sit near the front, too tense for that, slipping into a pew near the middle. John spots him from the front, tips his head, leans over to whisper something into Jacob’s ear that makes the older brother snort and roll his eyes. 

Which is...super unhelpful. Little shit. Rook’s pulled some strings to get him out of the trouble he seems to be constantly getting himself into. He should be grateful. 

The church goes quiet when Joseph steps out from a room behind the raised platform of the stage. Whispers dying down, everyone’s attention focused to a point. Rook can hardly blame them, he feels a bit distracted himself, almost forgetting to breathe as his eyes sweep over the length of Joseph’s body. He tries to keep the curls of lust from catching hold inside, reminding himself that even though he knows what Joseph looks like under those clothes, knows what he tastes like late at night when Rook should’ve left hours ago but couldn’t bring himself to pull his hands away, this is hardly the place for it. 

It doesn’t help but he figures, if he does have to answer to God at the end of days like Joseph tells his people they will, the trying should earn him some pity points. 

He knows the moment Joseph spots him, eyes going wide behind the ever-present yellow glasses--”Is it a fashion choice? Or do you just like yellow?” “Nothing so fanciful, I’m afraid, they help to mitigate the frequent migraines.” He almost seems to fumble for a moment, mouth opening and closing without a word, before a cautiously slow smile spreads and he slides right back into his comfort zone.

Rook’s not sure that the sermon for the day was supposed to be about soulmates, but it is. About how finding that person can be amazing, can be blessed, but it is not always an easy process. About how one should have faith that what will be will be, regardless of what they try and do, and they should just allow themselves to go along with the plan God has for them. 

About how some of them might have lost hope, grown weary with common words on their wrists, given up on finding the one meant for them. 

Rook finds himself idly rubbing across the words, common and generic and so fitting, so perfect that the man of God he found, that found him, would have something so simple and unassuming to say. Joseph had told him about how he felt, how he used to trace his own words as a child, living and surviving all the horror with the comfort he knew he’d one day find. So different from Rook’s own distaste and disappointment having something so short and simple. 

He follows along best he can, lost in his own head for the most part, nerves sparking up until he’s thankful the man in the pew next to him seems to have attended enough sermons to prod him into standing and sitting when it’s necessary. It comes to a boil when Joseph raises his head, bowed in the final prayer of the day, and the church breaks into small chattering as everyone readies themselves to leave. Rook stays in the pew, even once he’s alone, the rest of the faithful outside hurrying to whatever warmth they can find as the as the Earth slowly unthaws from the winter. 

Joseph waves John and Jacob away, both of them disappearing into the room behind the podium, before slowly making his way over. He sits down next to Rook, bumps a knee into his own, and offers up a gentle smile when Rook looks over.

“I’m so very glad you managed to attend today.”

“The sermon?” 

“Not quite what I had planned, but I rarely plan. I simply allow God to speak through me. If I chose a topic that was...particularly relevant, it seems only fitting.”

Rook nods; stares down at where his hands are linked between his knees, white-knuckle tight, almost painfully gripped together. 

“I was...uh...I was thinking. About the whole soulmate thing. Did you know it’s been six months?”

“Has it?” Joseph absolutely knows and he does a crap job hiding it, surprise so fake in his voice it almost makes Rook laugh. “How time flies, I suppose.”

“Yeah. So I was thinking...six months is a while to be dating. Especially for soulmates. It’s supposed to be an immediate connection, y’know?”

“It does not have to be--” Joseph tries to protest, probably remembering every time Rook had shifted uncomfortably under those same words from his mouth, but he cuts him off with a shake of his head. 

“But it should be. Should’ve been. And I can’t get back the time but I don’t want to, if that makes sense? I don’t regret actually dating you.”

“It was incredibly enjoyable.” Joseph murmurs, Rook grinning over and lightly bumping their knees together.

“I bet. But I think it’s dragged on long enough, yeah?” 

Joseph looks almost scared for a moment, eyes too wide as Rook digs into his pocket, like he thinks Rook’s going to call the whole thing off. Decide it was nice, but it wasn’t what he wanted. As if all the dates and the small times they could steal together and conversations late at night over the phone and in person, tangling up on the couch, could amount to anything less than everything. 

“I don’t have a ring. Don’t know what you like...probably take me forever to find something good enough for you. But I have this.” Rook gently places the key on Joseph’s thigh, leaving his hand there as Joseph’s falls to cover it. “You don’t have to move in. But I want you to have the option. I spent so long fighting and worrying and resisting...and I don’t want to anymore. You’re my soulmate. You shouldn’t have to call and ask if you can stop by and see me.”

Joseph seems lost for words for once, breathing stuttered, eyes bouncing between their stacked hands and Rook’s face. It’s enough to make his stomach drop, the silence stretching on until Rook feels like he might be sick. But Joseph offers him a shaky smile, weak and trembling. 

“I don’t...I’d offer you the same, of course. But I don’t ever lock my door.”

Laughter bursts free, so bright and loud Rook almost feels bad because this is still a church. But Joseph’s laughing right alongside him, joy spilling between whatever bond they’ve had since they were born, whatever linked them with the ink on their wrists and the empty space in each other’s souls that they were made to fill. 

He pulls Joseph close before he can think better of it, presses their mouths together, swallows the tail end of Joseph’s laughter with a smile still stretching his lips. They’ve gotten good at this, during those nights curled on the couch or in bed, fitting together like pieces carefully made for each other.

Because they were. And Rook can’t ever make up for fighting against it...but he can try. 

“Wait, shit,” this is a _church_ , “we can’t--you probably can’t kiss in a church?”

“I’d object to outright grinding on the pews,” Joseph shakes his head, rolls his eyes with a fond look on his face, “but this is fine. It feels...right.”

Isn’t that the truth?

Rook steals one last kiss, quick and chaste, and he can feel Joseph chuckling into it. 

“Besides,” Joseph cups a hand around his nape, tips their foreheads together, “I can think of no more fitting a place to be with my soulmate. In the house of the same God who saw fit to give us to each other.”

“I dunno,” Rook murmurs, “could be a couple better places. My bed, your bed....the kitchen.”

Joseph’s face flames, probably thinking of the same sweat-slick memories Rook currently has bouncing around his head. Rook laughs, can’t seem to stop, joy spilling over and out even as Joseph swats at him half-heartedly.

It’s not normal, not typical. Nothing about how they went about this is. Soulmates don’t date and they certainly don’t take six months to offer up keys to each other. But it fits and it’s so perfect Rook can’t bring himself to regret a single second. 

“Hey,” Rook squeezes Joseph’s hand, waits until Joseph’s lifted his sparkling gaze to his own. “I love you.”

“What do you know?” Joseph murmurs, “I love you too.”

Weird and uncommon. Different from all the stories Rook heard about soulmates growing up. Nothing like he imagined, nothing like Joseph ever imagined.

But perfect nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on [Tumblr!](https://momomomma2.tumblr.com)


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